If I Fell
by amorgan18
Summary: Back from deployment, Arizona tries to cope with what she's seen.
1. Denial

**Disclaimer:** The author of this piece does not, in any way, profit from the story and that all creative rights to the characters belong to Shonda Rhimes, their original creator.

**Part One – Denial  
**

_"Denial ain't just a river in Egypt." - Mark Twain_

Nine months. No scratch that, it's been just over nine months now since I've started this. That's somewhere in the mix of two hundred and seventy five days and the last two hundred and ten of those days have been spent in a super desert-filled hot box. And tomorrow will be two hundred and seventy six if this plane doesn't fly any faster. In case you're wondering why I'm counting, it's because that's how long I've been deployed in Iraq. And every waking moment that I wasn't elbow deep in some poor soldier's chest cavity trying to save his life, I was thinking about my girls and the moment our family would be reunited.

Four years ago I wouldn't have thought twice about having one. A family, that is. For once upon a time before gunshots and shrapnel wounds, I was a pediatric surgeon so in love with the most beautiful orthopedic surgeon at Seattle Grace. From her accidentally kicking me while we slept at night to her incredible Spanish tantrums where I pretended to know what she was yelling at me, I adored everything about her. It only took one bold kiss in a questionable bar restroom to set the catalysis in motion for what could be considered one of the most epic love stories at our hospital. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Ever since my Peds fellowship, I never wanted kids nor did I want to share my life with partner who did. There were enough sick children in the world with parents who did nothing more than want to love and expand their family. No one was at fault for their disorders, cancers, or the diseases that plague these little troopers. And as resilient as children are, not all of them make it. I couldn't bring a child into this world knowing everything that I did. Instead, I pledged to save the ones that came into my care.

Then she came along, following me on rounds and making cute faces at the babies in the nursery. She eased away the nightmares of tiny coffins and before I knew it she had become my person, the one I was destined to spend my life with. Baring the awesome medical expertise I've accomplished, on the day I knew we exchanged I loved you's, I vowed to myself that if the one good thing I did in my lifetime was making her happy then I'll have lived a good life. So around year two when the baby bug bit and now wife's biological clock started to tick, I knew I had no choice. One trip to see her best friends' coworker who is a fertility specialist in Los Angeles and a month later, Calliope was pregnant.

Forty weeks passed in a blur and a baby girl was blessed upon us. Thalia, named just like her birth mother was after one of the Greek muses: the muse of comedy and idyllic poetry. For every minute with her, Calliope and I were laughing and loving her more and more. I never thought it was possible to care for someone so much or to love them so unconditional, but the moment my little girl took her first breath I knew my life would never be the same.

Months passed and things became strained between Callie and me. Some might say it was the stress of a newborn and our jobs, but it was so much more than that. The aftermath of our country's war on terrorism had finally reached our hospital. Owen Hunt, a veteran to the chaos himself, opened our doors to military vets needing surgery, rehab, and counseling. And the Chief didn't complain as the government was footing the bill and then some.

Every doctor and nurse at Seattle Grace did what he or she could to help. At first I picked up a few cases here and there, mostly as homage to my brother who'd given his life to the marines. But a few case started to become a few more. I began working more than interns and residents combined. Something about these brave men and women dulled the pain of seeing tiny coffins in the same way that Calliope's love for me did too. My work with the vets flourished while my neglected pediatrics ward fell into a decline. I shouldn't have been surprised when the Chief asked me if I wanted to step down as the Head of Peds and take a full time position in Trauma, but I was. The tiny coffins returned that night.

The next morning I entered back into the closet and joined up with the Army with orders to deploy as general surgeon. It was the closest I could get to the Marines with the tools and cards I was dealt.

Deep down I think Calliope knew this was going to happen. Night after night, I'd come home from the hospital and regale her with stories of my soldier patients. She'd nurse the baby and tell me that's nice, probably silently praying the whole time that it was just a phase. So when I told her about joining up, I wasn't surprised when she took Thalia and locked me out of the bedroom for the night. She cried, the baby cried, and a part of me died.

After completing an accelerated basic training camp, I was commissioned and immediately given deployment orders. Thalia was nine months old by the time I left. Callie and I were barely on speaking terms by that point. Though her ex-husband had never actually made it over seas, she'd considered George O'Malley's life to be taken away by the military. She wouldn't stand by and watch me to do the same thing. Come deployment d-day, she didn't even see me off to the airport when I left. Owen and Teddy took me instead, bringing my beautiful daughter with them for one last good bye.

When I reached FOB Liberty, I quickly checked my email to find a message sent from Callie. Figuring it was a Dear John letter breaking up with me, I let the email go unread. Days passed by at an agonizing pace, as I couldn't bring myself to delete it. But just as mysteriously as the first one appeared in my inbox, another came and then another until one morning when I stumbled upon one of my scrub nurses looking at my computer screen with my email account wide open.

At first I assumed I was found out and would be dishonorably discharged then sent back home. I could see it now. The disappointment I'd cause my father, the shame I'd be marked with from now and forever, and the loneliness I was going to experience when I returned home to no wife and child. Instead, the nurse turned to me, tears in her eyes, and told me that my partner and I had a beautiful daughter. Before I could fight and speak those horrible lies about how that child wasn't mine, the nurse sat me down at the computer and opened the first email.

It was video clip of Calliope with a nine month old Thalia on her lap.

_"Ready? Okay… Come on Lia. Say it for the camera!" _Callie encouraged.

The tot looked doubtfully at the screen before Callie tickled her. Her laughter brought warmth to my body as I imagined myself there behind them, probably whispering something silly in Callie's ear then leaning down to give sweet kisses to Thalia.

_"Come on Lia! Just one more time, please?"_

"Mama!"

Callie began shouting all sorts of praise at our daughter, swinging her around then pulling her in for big hug. When she gained her composure, my rockstar turned back to the camera and spoke, "Her first word. I wish you were here to see it. Teddy and Owen said she was trying to say something kinda like it when you left yesterday morning. She just woke up determined to say it today."

The tot tried again. _"Mama!"_

"We miss you both so much. Please be safe over there. I love you."

"Mama! Mama! Mama!"

Thalia squealed bouncing up and down on Callie's lap.

_"That's right, baby girl!"_Callie praised again.

Our child then reached from something just out of view. It took a second before she pulled it close to her mouth and drooled on it a bit. It was a wallet sized photo of me, dressed in my uniform. Callie laughed and took it from her as Thalia squealed one last time, _"Mama!"_Just before the video clip ended.

Day after day more video clips came as did pictures, letters, and the occasional care package. She sent videos of 'Mama' then other words came along too. No was a big hit much to Calliope's dismay. Still, I watched them all from her first steps to her first birthday and even that disastrous first time with a sippy cup; every single milestone for my now toddler aged daughter.

Eventually, I did answer Calliope, apologizing at first for this rash decision and career change. She accepted it almost too easily and soon become my confident to the war and chaos that surrounded me daily. When I was scared, she would be there to smooth my cries wishing she could reach through the webcam to hold me. I couldn't ask for more. With oceans between us, we slowly gained back the relationship we once had. And I counted down the days until I could return my girls; all two hundred and seventy five super fantastic days.

xXxXxXxXxXx

The pilot came on over the intercom and the seatbelt light came on.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if you all could fasten your seatbelts, we're about to land at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport in Seattle Washington. The current temperature outside is a brisk thirty-four degrees, so remember to bundle up when you go outside. We'd like to thank you for flying United out of BWI and we'd also like to give a special thanks to Captain Robbins, a doctor in the Army who's been on broad with us this flight. Captain Robbins is returning home after being deployed in harm's way for a nine-month tour. Welcome Home, Captain."

The other passengers applauded me as they leaned out of their chairs and craned their necks to get a glimpse the war hero sitting in four F. I gave the nosey flight attendant who'd chatted me up earlier in the flight a quick smile and buckled my seatbelt. The plane landed without any issues. I still hate flying.

A good thing about airports and being in uniform is civilians usually let you go ahead of them in line. This comes in handy as I zip through security and other gates then onto baggage claim. My pack is pretty easy to spot in a sea of black suitcases, but finding her would prove to be something else. The last correspondence I had with Callie was at Andrews Air Force base when I had called to say I had landed back in the States. She'd let out the longest breathe I've ever heard, like she'd be holding it in since I'd left. We made plans to have her pick me up at the airport with Thalia. We were going to get it right this time around.

I find myself rushing more and more as I go through each terminal searching for her. Not even sure why at this moment. I've known that I won't even be able to hold her the way I want without it being considered a breach of Don't Ask, Don't Tell. And the thoughts I'd had about her would definitely be considered a huge violation of Article 134. I guess most soldiers come just go back to their loved ones would be in violation of it, but somehow I think I'd be the one they couldn't turn a blind eye to.

But then I see her.

She's got Thalia out of the stroller and is swinging her around and around as my daughter happily laughs crying out, "Mama!" It's like listening to angels as I hear her say that for the first time in person. I approach them slowly, taking in the stunning sight of my girls. They're so joyful unlike when I left. Remembering Thalia as she squirmed in Teddy's arms trying to get back to me plagued me with nightmares for weeks on end. But that day I left, Owen told me to keep my nose down and made me promise I'd come back to my family alive and well. I'm glad I kept that promise.

"Calliope?" I call to her.

She stops and turns to me.

"Oh God…" she cries.

I embrace the two of them never wanting to be apart from either of them again.

"You're okay… Thank God you're okay," Callie cries suppressing her sobs into my shoulder. She pulls back and looks to Thalia who looks unsure of things more then I do.

"Lia, you remember Momma!" says Callie, setting our daughter down on her own two feet trying to reason with her.

"Thalia, it's me. I've missed you so much, baby." I say kneeling down to her level. With tears now streaming down my face, I reach for her. Thalia's gotten so big in nine short months. I feel as though I've lost an eternity with her.

And apparently I have as she cries in fear and burrows back into the safety of Calliope's side.

"Lia, that's Momma! You don't have to be afraid of her."

"It's okay baby!" I try again,. "Shhh…Hey, its okay. I know it's a little scary right now. I'm scared too, but it'll be okay. I've missed you, Thalia."

I reach again for my beautiful baby girl, but again, the child screams like I'm a stranger about to snatch her away.

"Callie?" I cry seeking some type of guidance from her.

"It'll be okay," Callie apologized and gathers the child back up into her arms. "She just probably doesn't remem—" And stops herself there.

She doesn't have to continue though. The damage is done. I just have to twist the knife now to ensure the suffering.

"Like she doesn't remember me."

"It'll be okay, Arizona."

I'm pretty sure I just told our child the same thing and she screamed her opinion about that one loud and clear.

"It's just been awhile," Callie continues. "She'll warm up to you once we get back to the house. She's probably overwhelmed. A familiar environment will help."

"Yeah, it's fine. She's just probably overwhelmed."

Lying to my self never felt so good.


	2. Anger

a/n: Welcome back? :) I'm on spring break this week and I've got one mission. Finish all my unfinished fics and post a new one called, "In The Dead of Night." Follow me on writelikeyoufight . tumblr . com for more. 3 anna

**Part Two – Anger**

_"Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured."- Mark Twain_

xxxxxxxxx

_"How could you do this to me? To our family!" Callie sobs as she cradles an equally upset Thalia against her shoulder. "They took your brother from you! They took my husband!"_

_"Ex-husband, Calliope! And he did the bravest, most responsible thing he could do for his country!" I shout at deaf ears._

"_Responsible? Is that what you think this is? You think abandoning your family to go get shot at is responsible?"_

_My arms snap down to my sides as I pound my fists into my thighs. "I'm not abandoning you!"_

_"No, you already did that to me that moment those vets came to Seattle. Now you're just abandoning her," she tearful states, then turns on her heel and runs up the stairs.  
_

"_CALLIE!" I cry out halting her on the top step. She has to understand. This wasn't a decision I made lightly. "Please…"_

"_I should have known it! You wanted chickens over a baby. You never wanted this life. You don't want us. You'd rather get shot in the desert then live to see your own daughter's high school graduation!"_

_"No! That's not what I'm saying. Calliope please!"_

_My words are answered by the slam of our bedroom door and an accompanying lock turning. Slowly, I make my way up the stairway, pausing as I reached the doorway. I can hear the cries of my daughter gradually fading away into sleep as Callie sweetly sings a lullaby in between hiccups and silent tears._

_I slump down to the door, resting my head against it. "I'm not going there with a death wish. I'm going there because I can help. I owe it to David to at least try and help."_

_Her angelic voice stops crying so loud that the neighbors can hear. I know I have her attention even if she is rolling eyes at me behind the door._

_"It's seven months in a green zone! I'm coming back, Calliope. I'm not abandoning you or Lia. I love you both more than words. It's just another hospital with a lot more traumas and my patients will be over eighteen instead of under it. I want our life. I just – I have to do this. I'll come back to you."_

_My ear presses against the door, almost willing her to answer me._

"_I know you'll come back. Just how you'll come back is what worries me."_**  
**

"Come back to us… Dr. Robbins?"

"All that fairy dust get lost in the desert, Dr. Robbins?" Cristina Yang jokes as she passes me and my fourth screaming child today.

"Ew no! Yang, do something meaningful with your life and we'll talk!" I fire back, my head throbbing in with the beginnings of a migraine.

"I repair hearts. You know, the organ that pumps blood around your body?"

The child screams louder and right in my ear, stunning me and defeating any chance of a quick come back. I turn to one of the interns and ask him to finish up while I make for a get away to salvage what's left of my hearing.

It's only been back a week since I've been back. The original plan was to take a few weeks off to concentrate on mending our tiny family back together, but my girls had other ideas. Callie skirted around any serious conversation while Thalia thoroughly ignored and avoided me at all costs. For eighteen months old, she was quite clever in dodging me. So I went back to the one place that never seemed to hate me.

The chief was more than happy to give me a job again at Seattle Grace. I was just going to be a regular attending as interim Head of Peds was still signed on for the rest of the year. I figured putting in about forty hours a week would be okay. I'd be able to get my footing back in Peds. Calliope and Thalia thing would solve itself in time. Right?

Having escaped the realm of children screaming, I walked down the hallway with my head buried in my blackberry, checking my emails and texts. One of them was from Callie. She wouldn't be making lunch because some ortho surgery of her dreams had just come through the ER's door. This only meant one thing. I was in charge getting to the hospital's daycare and feeding Thalia lunch. I pinch the bridge of my nose seeking pseudo relief from the monstrous headache.

Two Hundred and Seventy Five definitely not super days; that's all it took for my little girl to forget me. And in the week I've been back she hasn't let me hold her once. Calliope swore up and down that she was just shy, but the baby I left nine months ago was never shy a day in her life. Thalia strived for attention. She fought tooth and nail to be with me until the day I left. No, when I left my daughter loved me.

I headed into the cafeteria and picked up some finger foods Callie had mentioned Thalia liking. It was easy enough so far, or so I thought. When I arrived on the second floor at the daycare, she was one of the only children left without lunch or a parent accompanying her. The scowl on her face was almost identical the one Calliope would give me if I showed up late for her. It stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Thalia's mom, right?" One of the daycare teachers asks me.

"No – I mean yes," I stutter out still under the oppression of my military code.

"It's okay. Dr. Torres called down earlier and explained everything to us," She says giving me a pat of confidence on the back. "I'm Sarah. Call me if you need anything."

Sarah quickly heads over to a kid who's making a Jackson Pollock with his lunch instead of eating it, leaving me to deal with Lia.

"Hey Baby," I begin kneeling down to her level. "Mama's stuck in surgery, so it's just you and me today for lunch."

She backs away from me. It's obvious she still views me as stranger, so instead of pushing her more I decide to lure her in with the best alternative available to me; food. Opening the lunch container I picked up from the cafeteria, I take out a piece of fruit and place it on the table.

"You like bananas, right?"

She doesn't come any closer, but she almost doesn't move further away from me. So I open the banana for her and begin cutting it into bite size slices.

"You know your grandmother use to do this for David and I all the time when we were kids. She'd slice a banana up and put it on our cereal for breakfast."

I open the small container or fruit loops to match it. Oddly enough it seems the interns went for all the healthier options from the cafeteria today and left me with the off-limits cereal. I know Callie said only Cheerios, but I don't think Lia will mind.

"Come on, Thalia. I promise you'll like it."

The tiny girl makes a move towards me with a hand reaching out for a red ring. My pager has impeccable timing as the sleeping giant chirps to life. Instantly, Lia recoils from me. I glance down and see it's just one of the residents put on my service for the day.

"Just a couple bites so your mama doesn't think I forgot about lunch with you?"

Apart from her chest inhaling and exhaling, Lia doesn't budge. To my left is the bear Carlos gave her when she was born. The poor thing is worn and drooled on and now sporting a small tee shirt, probably hiding the stitches Callie has done to keep him together. But it's full of love and is her absolutely favorite toy in the world. So of course, the stuff animal is my key to getting her to eat.

"I betcha Mr. Bear is really hungry too."

Her eyes widen with panic as I reach for the cherished plaything, but I don't notice until it's too late. The second I touch the bear Lia lets out a blood curling scream at the top of her lungs. Around us, parents and children alike stop and stare at me. I can only imagine the thoughts going through their head. It's Torres' jarhead wife who probably doesn't have a clue in the world how to handle kids.

"Lia, stop now."

Like that's going to work.

Quickly, I give the bear back to Lia. The crocodile tears well up and my real ones begin to fall as she hugs the bear for dear life and escapes to the safety under the table.

"Dr. Robbins?" Sarah calls to me. "I can help her, if you have to get back to your patients."

I nod even though my heart is breaking into a thousand pieces. There were bound to be a few snags here and there with Lia getting to know me again. Even though it's been a week, the child still only knows me best as a picture on Callie's photo or the blonde lady from the fuzzy skype chats. Remembering this made it all too easy to give back the plastic container of cereal to Sarah and head to the exit.

When I look back at the scene I've abandoned, Lia is smiling once again as her daycare teacher bents down to her eye level and puts a few fruit loops on the table. Eager as the day is young, my darling tot grabs a few, and finally eats. I should feel relief that she's eating possibly even speaking to her daycare teacher, but I don't. My heart feels broken or rather like it's on fire. All the irritation that I've been suppressing feels like it's igniting from the ashes of might have been.

"_Mama!" _the Lia on my computer happily cries as I watch her first word video for the hundredth time.

xxxxxxxxxxx

For the remainder of the year, Callie's office has become our office until the interim Head of Peds vacates my old one. It doesn't bother me that we have to share. It's like getting to spend extra time with her or the memory of her. What bothers me is for the second time today I've come here seeking sanctuary in the tons of videos she keeps of Thalia on her desktop.

"_Mama! Mama! Mama!"_

_"That's right, baby girl!"_

No matter how many times I play it, it'll never match the moment I've built up in my head. The one where I was met at the airport by my daughter running as fast as her little legs could carry her, crying out for her Momma. You know, the American Dream I was promised upon my return after serving my country?

"What the fuck am I doing!"

"Kiss your daughter with that mouth?" Callie says to me breaking me out of my self-wallowing.

"What daughter? She won't let me come within a ten foot radius of her," I snap back.

Callie recoils from it. "She's just going through a stage. We just need to keep her on a—"

"Daily routine! Jesus Christ, Callie! I work in peds! Tell me something I don't know!"

Count to ten, I tell myself. Just count to ten. She came in here and made a joke. Calliope didn't do this. She didn't make you angry. That was all me. Leaving was a good choice. I saved many lives over there. Yeah, I forgot about the two that mattered the most to me. But we all have to make sacrifices.

"Okay, sorry. I don't want to fight," she says deflated as she shuts the door.

Leaning forward onto her desk, I bury my face into the palm of my hand. It seems like ever since I met them in the airport, we've been in some sort of fight. Thankfully, my partner notices my frustration as she closes the door and comes to my side. Her strong arms lure me from my palms into her stomach as I immerse my face into her navy scrubs searching for solace.

"I miss this," I breathe, taking in her scent.

Her fingertips tangle into my hair, reeling back to release my hair tie, then making her way down my back. She traces deep circles causing my skin to chill and pucker with delight. My hands slip under her scrub top and slowly make their way up her back. She mirrors me as goose bumps travel up her spine.

I could count the times we've been together since my return on one hand. When trapped in a desert wasteland, you're going to be overwhelmed with nothing but thoughts of what's absent from your life. I never thought missing her physically and emotionally would be a hardship I'd have to continue to endure. But here we are, alone in her office with a close door shielding us from the sites and sounds of Seattle Grace.

Still beneath her scrubs, my hands descend down her back to their inevitable goal. Lust radiates out from my eyes as I look at her for permission that she readily gives. Quickly, I'm on my feet, lifting her onto the desk. Books, papers, research, and even the mouse tumbles off the desk as I clothesline it with her body. Callie tries to gain control of the situation, but all hope is lost as I lean in and capture her lips in a breath-stealing kiss.

My hands stay busy as I push her scrub top up, freeing her from all fabric confinements. She gasps a haggard yes as trail kisses down her neckline and rapidly exposing breasts.

Then I hear it; the quick chirp of her pager averting her attention from the present task. I'm not going to stop though. This is not like peds where a child is going to cardiac arrest. Calliope is in Orthopedics. Bones can take a while to heal, but sexual gratification cannot.

"Hang on…" she raggedly exhales into my neck.

Blindly, she reaches down to her waistline for her pager.

"Ten… minutes… Calliope!" I murmur in between succulent kisses. "Just give… me ten… minutes."

The pager wins out as she finally retrieves it and reads the number off.

"Derek's coming in."

Derek Shepherd! Why not mention Mark Sloan if she seriously wanted to douse me with a cold shower of words? I push off her and land back in the chair more frustrated than when I began this endeavor. She quickly gets up goes to looks into the office mirror on the back of the door, fixing her hair and rubbing away any smudged lipstick.

"Callie!"

"Can you fix the desk?" she asks combing her fingertips through her hair.

"Fix it your self," I hiss and push the last standing stack of books over onto floor and storm out passed my stunned partner.

Anger. It's like ice and fire mixed into one cursing through my veins as I rush down the hallways to the Peds wing. The girl I knew wouldn't let some pager stop us even if the Chief himself was knocking on the door.

A small girl who looks about the age of a college freshman with scrubs that could fit one of my tiny patients notices my return to the motherland and darts towards me with some charts tucked under her arms.

"Dr. Robbins!" she squeaks.

I hold up and knowledge her existence.

"What is it…" Looking to her coat for her name. "Mindy?" The name leaves a bad taste in my mouth like I should have been calling her Barbie or Miley or Lizzie. Either way, I feel like I'm speaking to a plastic doll with the amount of peroxide in her hair and make up on her face.

"Dr. Robbins, I was reviewing some of your charts for today when I came across something of Kyle Marshall's scans. He had the perforated bowl and something might have been missed—"

"Scan," I demand less than amused.

She fumbles with the chart trying to get scans out. My patience runs even thinner as I rip them out of her arms and the x-rays up to the florescent lights. And there it was. Another hole plain as day, in this five-year-old boy's small intestine. It was only this morning I'd been finishing up with his family, saying how he'd be back out on playground with the rest of his friends in time for kindergarten. A second surgery was going to set this child back months. How could I have missed it?

"Fuck!"

"Should we book an OR?" Mary or Ellen asks me.

"Yeah… book an OR, gather a team, and get his parents."

The young intern beams with excitement as she leaves to fill out the paper work, leaving me to chastise myself. How could I have missed it? An intern on their second day could have seen this. A resident would have known the second they'd cut into this poor boy that there was more to it.

Taking the scans into one x-ray tech's rooms, I placed them against the illuminated screen and turn on the back light. How could I have missed this? The second hole was there plain as day, painfully taunting this five-year-old boy and me.

My fingers curled in a fist, digging my fingernails in my palm. This was entirely my fault. I'd been so wrapped up in trying to make things better in my home life that I missed something big. It was making me unfit for surgery.

Rage intoxicated me to the point of psychosis as I cocked a fist back and left loose on the scan. My biceps screamed with glee as I pummeled the scan again and again, hating myself for such carelessness. I punched for the screen for Callie and our failing relationship. I hit for Thalia, who'd never know how much I wanted to love her. I smashed for Kyle Marshall who nearly got sent home to his death.

My name echoed around my head, begging me to stop, but I had to keep going. The rush was there in the form tiny shards of plastic and glass cascading to the floor. I was freeing hundred of parents from ever seeing deep masses of cancerous masses, broken bones, and disaster on this evil screen.

The mayhem thrilled me in ways I'd never experienced. Each punch, the broken fuse would spark and snap. Every elbow and hammer fist to the plastic and glass would crack a little more into an unruly mosaic. I felt more alive in the past two minutes than I had felt in the past two years.

Drunk with rage, I turned around ready to maim whatever my hands could grab, but instead two hands grabbed me.

"Arizona, stop it!" Teddy shouted and pulled me in tight.

"LET ME GO!" a dark voice rang out of my chest.

Her arms locked me into a bear hug. No matter how hard I tried, Teddy did not let me go.

"This is not what friends do for friends!" I screamed at her.

"No, this is exactly what we do when our best friend's angry beyond reason!" she barks back. "Do you want Callie to see you like this?"

Angry beyond reason? That's what this volcanic angry inside me is? I want to scream back at her, but I can't. The icy adrenalin begins to melt from my veins.

The cardio goddess let me melt into her as sobs rack through me. We sunk to the floor as feelings of soreness and exhaustion finally arrive. When she was sure I wouldn't demolish any more medical equipment, Teddy let me go to weep in disgust. I failed at having a family and now I'm failing at my job too.

We remained like this until the tears dried up and the silence won.

"So, any reason for the outburst?" she asks.

"Everything just felt dark?"

"Well, that tends to happen when you punch out a light."

"Yeah," I laughed tapping my arms.

Pain shot up my arm in ways I never though possible. Teddy reaches for my hand, but I flinch and pull away. My pinky and ring finger knuckles on my right hand were swelling up about eight times their size and about three different shades of purple. It's broken which definitely means no surgery.

"Guess we'll have to find another room to look at your x-rays."

"Yeah."

"Just want to sit here in silence until someone else finds us?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

xxxxxxxxxx

It's late. Teddy moved us to a private room far away from Peds and prying eyes. We both knew whom she'd have to page to set my bone. Thankfully, she waited until after the x-rays came back to do so.

"What did you do?" Callie demands as she enters.

"Torres, not now," Theodora fires back as she continues dabbing at the cuts on my hand.

"Move. I'll get it!"

"I'll move if you promise not to take this out on her."

"Take out what?" Two speed hands grab my x-rays on the table and hold them up to the ceiling light.

Her trained eyes see the fracture in my hand. I'm out for six weeks if I'm lucky. I probably won't be up to surgery par for at least six months. Calliope senses my regret and thankfully forgoes any more scolding that the Chief had covered earlier in various, earsplitting detail.

"Ari…" she begins again.

If pictures could say a thousand words, then I seriously hope the pathetic expression on my face would give her all the information she needed to know.

"Can you just…?" I motion to the casting mold that has yet to be put on my swollen hand.

She nods and takes over for Teddy, who quietly slips out of the room. Her skilled hands quietly begin wrapping gauze around the battered break. We stare at it like its threatening to our existence.

"I love you," she tries.

"I know."


	3. Bargaining

**Part Three – Bargaining**

"_Existence is a strange bargain. Life owes us little; we owe it everything. The only true happiness comes from squandering ourselves for a purpose." - William Cowper_

"It's not like I don't appreciate the silence," Dr. Wyatt started.

It had been a full three minutes since we began my mandated therapy session. And mandated was one of the many words that forced me to come here tonight. I was her last appointment of the day, which consequently got me out of the house before Calliope and Thalia came home. It's not like I was avoiding them, I was just avoiding the clash that I knew would happen if I spent more than ten minutes around either of them.

Dr. Wyatt gives me scowl and continues on. Apparently, listening will be added to the list humanistic of traits I'm lacking, post light-box battle.

"Because it can get old listening to surgeon after surgeon, but Chief Webber did make it pretty clear that you would not be allowed back in the operating room until you start talking."

At least she's honest and I could totally be too. Truthfully, I did want to speak to someone about what had been going on. Getting so angry that I had to smash hospital property is definitely a warning sign that I might be burned out. However, with Callie not being an option at the moment, Teddy would have been my next best choice, but somehow that didn't feel right either.

"And you look like the type of surgeon who can't be out of the OR for long."

She's right. I don't want to be out of the OR this long, but I figure I've got a good six or more months before I can even hold a scalpel steady. And Dr. Wyatt's couch isn't that uncomfortable. In six weeks, I'm sure I could get cleared monitoring surgery.

My good hand tightened around my bubble gum pink cast. It's definitely a color worthy of this Peds surgeon. Teddy had picked it out for me without even asking. Calliope had soaked and wrapped it around my wrist without looking at me. Now my hand and wrist were bound in it like a scarlet letter for everyone to see.

"Cast bothering you?" Dr. Wyatt asked.

I shook my head. My subconscious is bothering me.

Since surgery would be out of the question until I healed and completed physical therapy, I made the emergency room had become my new home. It took three very restless graveyard shifts, but with hands full of triage and trauma I felt like I could breathe again.

There was never dull moment especially with flu season starting to gear up again. Ambulances ushered in neglectful drivers and clumsy children packing with everything imaginable. But I knew every case, whether monotonous or exhilarating was just another way to drown anything feelings I had towards reality. And of course, it was all just a huge underlying excuse to avoid her. I hadn't slept at home with Callie since the incident. I didn't know what to say to her still.

Calliope made a few attempts at reconciliation by had stopping by with Thalia after her shift. Innocently, I believed these brief visits with one another would be a step in the right direction for us. But it was really just another way to carry on this falsehood that we were okay. At least the baby was honest. My pink cast fascinated, pleasing Callie and making me think that Lia could have a future in orthopedics. It was hard to miss the questions just bubbling underneath the surface. But her curiosity wasn't enough to make her leave the safety of mother's arms.

"You recently came back from Iraq. How long did you deployed for?" Dr. Wyatt asks.

"Nine months."

"It must have been incredible, you know, what you saw over there."

Incredible? I guess that's one way to describe it. Haunting might be another word to illustrate it. I was use to children being hysterical around me. The hospital can be a super scary place with all the smells, sounds, and shiny, sterilized surfaces. As a Peds surgeon, I did my best to give all my tiny patients a sense of relief even when I watched their parents fall apart. I guess that's why I was surprised when I got abroad. The soldiers who came through my OR were no different from the tiny humans except for one factor. They knew when they were dying.

Listening to them beg for more time was the worst. There were only so many times I could listen to these young men and women beg for just one more day with loved ones Swearing at God or who ever to let them live because they sacrificed for their country. I could deal with the anger, the acceptance, the lost will to live on, but the pleading for more time always got me.

Eventually, as do most doctors, I grew numb. I bottled it up forgoing burnout and saving my tears for when I was alone or around the few scrub nurses I could trust. But everyone knows when happens you keep every troubling moment to yourself.

"Are you finding it hard to readjustment to civilian life?"

Again, I shook my head though I pretty sure Dr. Wyatt knows I'm lying. The military life has its ups and downs; one of the biggest downs being my inability to talk openly with my fellow officers about my wife and child. During free time a lot of soldiers would attended defusing sessions to talk about how much they missed their families. Sometimes I joined in and would say I missed my best friend and her daughter, fearing the worse if I was ever found out. It was no different when I returned home. So I didn't attend group sessions with my unit.

"It's alright to be experiencing some anxiety after what you've been through."

"It's not me."

"Not what?" she asked, confused by my statement.

"It's Calliope and Lia."

"Your partner and daughter, correct?" Dr. Wyatt confirmed by looking through her notes.

"Calliope, she – I never wanted kids, you know? There are just too many possibilities for them to get hurt or sick. But early in our relationship, we broke up because of it. Then the shooter came through here…"

We lost so many people that day. Innocent lives of patients, nurses, staff, and doctors all for grief. Dr. Wyatt nods in agreement seeing where I was going with this.

"So we got back together and had Thalia."

"A child's a pretty big decision over such a traumatic event."

"But a life without Calliope would be super worse."

"So, you changed your life plan for the woman you love and had child together," Dr. Wyatt recapped

A curt nod validates her summary as I continue. "Then we had all those vets come through here and it was always a dream of mine to join up like my Dad and brother did, so I did it. Joined the army after she was born and then I got deployed. When I came back, Lia started acting like I'm a complete stranger."

"It can be perfectly natural for a child to be a little wary of a parent's return after such a long absence. "

"It's been a few weeks though and she still hasn't warmed up to me. She cries if she's left alone with me. And it's not just her. Callie never says more than five words to me at a time. And every time I try to fix it, one of them flips."

Dr. Wyatt smiles knowing the truth is one angry rant away. So just like floodgates opening, I flow.

"I saved the lives of civilians and soldiers with IED's going off constantly, getting shot at! Being scared out of my mind while working on a soldier who's just been brought in after being missing for three days, thinking he could have a bomb on him. And it makes me a hero! Everyone thanks me for how what I've done, but my own wife and child just look at me like I'm broken! Every debriefing said to this give it time! That this readjustment to civilian life is a two way street, but how long do I have to wait for my own daughter to realize that I would never hurt her!"

Tears are threatening at the corner of my eyes. Dr. Wyatt hands me the tissue box.

"There's never any set time limit for things like this," she tries.

"You're supposed to say things like that so people don't think they're strange for going something like five decades of not speaking to their dad."

"Do you want me to tell you it's abnormal for a child to stop speaking to a parent? Think about adults and adolescents. They're a classic example."

"Great! So if she fears me like I'm the devil now then the teen years are going to be an absolute scream. You know, you are really good at this 'making people feel better' thing."

Dr. Wyatt smirks, clearly intrigued.

"Why don't you tell me about the night you broke your hand?"

You mean the wonderful night when I had the beginnings of a migraine then got turned down for awesome office sex for a consult? And the cherry on top of the sundae: I nearly let a boy be discharged to his death. That night of awesomeness?

"Not a lot to say about that," I began, smoothing out my scrub pants. "Everything was just bubbling over from the day and I lost it. I should have just thrown something, but instead I hit the wall."

"Are you normally a violent person?"

"Excuse me?"

"Physically, I mean," she added.

"Never!" I shouted with a mixture of disgusted and surprise.

"Then what changed that night?"

"The tiny hum— my patients cry every time because I got use to treating swearing soldiers with shrapnel in their chest. You didn't have to think about bedside manner until later. We were there to control the bleeding and manage the airway, so you could save the soldier.

I knew it would be bumpy when I got here, but now I'm missing little things because I'm so wrapped up with my home life! Now every little thing in my life is punishing me for leaving. I failed Callie as a wife and I failed my daughter as a mother. And that sucks! That much I get, but it's suppose to be getting better and it's not."

"Is that why you destroyed hospital equipment?"

I don't answer her. Dr. Wyatt furrows her brow, studying me. We both look at her clock. Fifteen minutes down, forty to go. This hour's never going to end.

XxXxXxXxX

I couldn't get out of her office fast enough. Something about a dimly lit room filled with comfortable couches and motivational posters did not scream therapeutic. She called after me saying to follow up with her in a few days, but it didn't take a genius to know that wasn't going to happen.

A few quick steps and I found myself rocking back on my heels and rolling down the hallway towards the elevators. That's what I should have talked about! How much I missed being able to skate down the hospital hallways. It's not like I couldn't have worked a little Arizona Robbins magic on my boots and added a wheel or two, I just don't think the soldiers would get the same kick out of it like my tiny human do, or use to.

I rode the elevator down to the second level and made my way to the landing that connected the west wing to the east. The plan was to skate across it a few times, clear my head and attempt to not break a wrist in addition to my hand, but as I skated across the open corridor, I spotted Calliope below.

She was about to leave the building with Mark, Derek Shepherd for what looked like a celebratory early dinner. Mark play around and Derek mimicked some inside joke, while Calliope laughed. The look of shear joy radiating off her was one I hadn't seen in quite some time. To the passerby the three of them probably looked like the oldest of friends.

"Hey Robbins!" Teddy greeted me, as she took up a post next to me.

"Does that happen a lot?"

"What?" Teddy asked, bemused.

I nod in the direction of my wife and our coworkers.

"Oh, the new boys' club? I guess so."

"I get Mark Sloan, but Derek Shepherd? I mean come on! She gets annoyed just by looking at his hair."

Teddy snickers then turns around to look at the beautiful mountain scenery behind us. "It's her outlet, you know? The three of them never talk army, and they never talked about you. Owen and I kinda figured she needed it since every other nurse and doctor here use to follow up their _Hey Callie_, with a _How's Arizona doing?_"

"So you were her outlet about my deployment while Mark and Derek –"

"Took care of the rest."

"Does she still come to talk to you?"

Teddy shook her head.

But Calliope still goes to them. This time I turned around.

"I can handle your patients if you wanna catch up with them" Teddy offers. "I think they're just going over to Joe's."

Thirty minutes with Calliope sans daughter trying to rebuild us, or thirty minutes where Callie doesn't have to worry about her wife and can have a little fun?

"Nah! Come on, let's get some coffee before the stand closes."

*XxXxXxXxX

The night shift promptly went by with the aid of coffee and interns who could make even the dullest night interesting. I actually left earlier than I should have and return home to a sleeping Calliope and Thalia in our bed. Quietly, I joined them holding Callie as close as I could, savoring her warmth. Her body gravitated to mine without even knowing it.

Soon blonde curls enriched with a golden hue of sunlight had intertwined with the raven locks that adorned my bed partner's peaceful head. It was a stolen moment in our two-story colonial home nestled in suburban Seattle. She turned ever so slightly causing one of those tresses to drape over her face. The unknowing lock tickled her nose drawing her out of the faraway world I'd been watching her dream in.

"Good Morning," my tired voice spoke as I leaned in to kiss her nose.

"Did my pager go off?" she mumbled.

"Nope."

"Did the baby wake up?"

Sitting up slightly, I looked to the small lump sleeping behind Callie. She'd snuck in during the night to share the enormous bed with her mother. Morning cereal, cartoons, and closet monster stakeouts were probably the norm around here while I was knee deep in sand and bullets.

"Still sleeping," I replied then sat up, fixing my hair into a messy bun.

"When did you get in?"

"Like ten minutes ago. I'll make some coffee, k?"

She answers me with a half mumbled okay and slips back into a dream world. Grabbing her cozy robe, I slip downstairs to turn on the coffee maker wrapped in her calming scent.

As the coffee brews, I find one of Lia's favorite sippy cups and fill it with chocolate milk, which I know will be welcomed treat in the Torres/Robbins household.

Maybe Dr. Wyatt was right. There is no time line for this. I just have to take the good with the bad and revel in the moment. This morning will just be a perfect example. Breakfast as a family in the luxury of our bedroom.

I got out the breakfast tray and put a cereal bowl on there filling it with cheerios and milk. Two cups of steaming coffee accompanied it as I poured enough sugar and half-n-half in Callie's cup until it no longer resembled coffee, but a creation of its own.

Careful, I climbed the stairs though my feet were practically taking the steps in twos with a giddiness of anticipation that I hadn't felt in some time. There weren't many times the three of us could just lounge together like this without the stress of work looming over us. And with any luck, this could be a chance to lose some distance between us. Forget Dr. Wyatt , the Chief, or anyone else who thinks this is broken. If anyone was going to fix my family, it's going to be me.

But my optimism fell short as I neared the room and heard the two of them talking.

"Go?" Lia asks in a small, anxious voice.

"No baby. Momma's home now."

"No."

"Sweetie, we talked about this."

"No!" the tyke vocalizes even louder.

An enormous sigh escapes from her chest. It's an uphill battle to revive the love your child once had for their mother. We both knew it, but the sigh emulating deep within her sounds more like defeat than frustration. However, during all my sulking and Calliope's attempt at making our daughter understand, none of us foresaw what was coming next.

Post-traumatic stress triggers can consist of actions, places, visual stimulation, or sounds. Many veterans have them and continue to suffer from them even with professional help. Even Owen Hunt discovered he had one with the ceiling fan that lay above his bed. But I was about to find mine out in the worst possible moment ever just as the alarm clock on our nightstand turned 8 am.

Even though the alarm sounded off with boisterous decibels of lengthy tones, all I heard was…

_Gunshot! Gunshot! Get Down!_

The tray slips from my grip as I collapsed to the ground, ducking my head. The coffee mugs shattered on impact as scorching java sprayed against my skin, soaking into my clothes.

_Incoming!_ I could hear the men shouting. _Move!_

Cereal sticks to me as I back myself against the wall.

_I'm dead. We've been attacked and I'm dead._

"Arizona!"

I can't bring myself to focus. Memories of that hellish sand box cloud my vision as I recall the convoys, the soldiers, and the noise. Voices cried in agony as boys were rushed onto my surgical table, some just begging for more time. Just one last afternoon baseball game with their child or just another endless night wrapped in the arms of their love. Just one more moment before they left this Earth. Just a second to make their partner happy.

"Baby, please!"

Except this wasn't the desert. It's our home.

"Calliope?"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. I forgot to turn it off."

Turn it off? What was she talking about? I just heard M16's fired off in the comfort of our home. A sympathetic face picks up on my confusion.

"The alarm clock? What did you—"

She stops there finally getting it. She pulls me close, resting my head on her shoulder. Almost instantly, I see wet marks appear on her shirt. My own hand reaches to feel if she's okay when something wet rolls onto it, halting me. I'm crying.

Thalia is hysterical, waiting by the door with arms outstretched for her mother. I caused this. If I hadn't come home early, the two of them would have gone about their morning routine without a bump or snag.

"Ari?"

My good arm pushes her back as I get up and run down stairs. Her robe is swiftly discarded somewhere in the foyer as I grab my keys, run out to the car and get in. A quick glance at the monstrous scene is all I need as I peel out of the driveway.

XxXxXxXxX

It's almost eleven o'clock at night before I came back home. She must have called me more than twenty times before I finally fired back a quick text apologizing then turning off my phone. I didn't know where to go. I was in no shape to go to the hospital. Dr. Wyatt was always an option, but I knew I looked like someone who needed to be committed, so I just drove until exhaustion won out I returned home.

I headed straight upstairs to the bedroom in hopes to find Callie, but instead it was empty. Then I heard a voice.

"I just don't know what to do anymore, Daddy," Calliope says as she sits perched out on the back deck stairs. "She's Arizona, but she's not…. God, Lia won't talk around her, she won't come near her. It doesn't help that Arizona freaks out about the littlest noise. I didn't even let Thalia sleep in my bed tonight because I'm afraid she'll get hurt if she does."

It was supposed to be a private conversation; a weekly Sunday night phone call to her parents. Before I left Calliope would hold the phone up so Thalia could laugh for her proud grandparents as I spouted out a happy hello. They were happier times that I'm beginning to wonder if we'll ever see again.

I know she's trying to be quiet, but the window above her is the window to our bedroom and that deck redirects every sound perfectly into our room. A sigh escape my lips only to be mirrored by Calliope below me as she continued her to confess her aggravations.

"No Daddy, she hasn't hit me. She would never do that… I just – Some days I just don't know."

This should be an easy answer for me, but it's not. She's in pain; we're all in pain because we're so broken over a baby I originally never wanted and a career she never wanted me in.

"What do I do? She can't get the help she needs from the army without telling them about us and I know she's not going to go see Dr. Wyatt anymore. I don't know what to do anymore."

But I do.

This family was completely functional before I came back. I leave her to finish her conversation with her father.

Quietly, I enter Thalia's room. She's fast asleep on her new "big girl" bed complete with a princess veil flowing down from the top of the ceiling onto the headboard. Calliope picked it out knowing all too well that if I had been there during the shopping trip, it would have been exactly what I'd want for Lia.

Gently, I lean against the wall and slid down until my bottom rests on the floor. My eyes never leave the beautiful child in front of me.

"Thalia," I begin. "I know things aren't all rainbows and sunshine for us right now. You and your mom made this life together while I was gone. I think you were happy. So, I'm going to make a deal with you. If I can't make your mama or you happy again, I'll go away. I'll go back to the war or I'll move out and you'll never have to see me again. You can have her again."

Words like that are hard to come by, but a soldier needs to follows a few rules. One of them being I will never jeopardize the mission. I can't pretend any longer that things will go back to the way they were. I'm not even sure if I want them to go back to the way they were anymore. Who knows what damage I've caused to Callie or Lia in this month since I've been home.

"I just—"

My thought almost seems to die in my throat. I don't want to say it, but it's one of those now or never things. It hard not to still feel an immense amount of unconditional love for my daughter.

"I just want one day with the both of you, then you can have your life back."

I stayed by her bedside memorizing every inch of her tiny face.

By one am, I drag myself from her room and into our bedroom. Calliope is already nestled in under the covers. I take off my shoes leaving them right by the bed, then pull off my jacket and shirt. Two hands brush down my back as my bra is unhooked and tumbles down to my lap.

"I miss you," Calliope whispers into my ear.

Her voice causes a shiver to run up my shine and leaves me completely powerless as I stood up and slipped off my jeans and panties. Her arms lure me back into bed under the safety of the covers. Her tan skin mixes with mine, pulling us together in an intimate embrace. A hand sweeps my hair away as two chocolate eyes search for my own.

"Why did you leave?" she asks, sitting up.

"I just needed to get away."

"You're always doing that."

"I know. I'm sorry"

"Why won't you ever talk to me? What's wrong, Arizona?"

"Everything," I answer so small I'm not sure she even heard me.

"You could see Wyatt again now. It'll get better."

"But it would be easier if I left."

"No! Don't say that –"

I place my finger over her lips. "Please, just give me tonight. We can talk in the morning if you want. Just give me tonight."

She sits up and considers my request.

Before she can say no, take my hand and inch in underneath her shirt. My fingertips are met with the creamy concealed skin of her breasts. Sitting up to join her, my other hand takes the hem of her shirt and gently pulls it over her head.

"Arizona…" she breathes as I begging to massage her chest.

I want to look at her one last time and savor the way her nipple puckers at the added attention my hands begin to administer. But my eyes still can't seem to reach hers. It's a moment of reverence and humiliation all mixed into one for me, as I can't truly remember the last time I felt this turned.

Our lips are quickly drawn together like magnets as I let her tongue enter me. Eager moans escape her lips and muffle against my own as I catch her bottom lip with my teeth, giving it a playful nip.

"Are you happy?" I ask.

It's a simple question with a thousand more bubbling up behind it. What I'd really like to ask her is can you love me again even if it's just for tonight? Can you go back to the cherished time when you were still a resident and I was just named Head of the Peds department? A time when we would stay up all night making love and eating pizza, wrapped only in bed sheets and each other's arms.

"Of course! Don't ever think that I'm not.," she says, dejectedly.

It's enough to get me by even if she sounded aggrieved by the mere thought of my question. Before another thought can trouble her, I lay Calliope back on the bed then rid her pajama shorts and underwear from her body. Her legs find mine as we intertwine for another kiss. A swift thrust is met with a welcomed wetness as another moan erupts from Calliope's mouth. Accompanying it, my own primal growl as a hand retreats from her breasts and shifts down between us.

"Please Arizona!" she begs as I begin to make circles around her quickly swelling mound.

"Do you still love me?"

"Wh—What?" she struggles lost in a euphoria.

"Do you still love me?" I ask as my fingers slip down to her entrance, sweeping up the juices to cover everything my hand could reach.

"I never stopped!" she gasps as two of my fingers enter her, a grateful reward for her integrity.

The remainder of the night is spent exploring each others bodies. The whole time though I felt like we were just putting a band-aid on a hemorrhage. But who wouldn't take one more blissful night with the woman you loved before bowing out.


	4. Depression

**Part Four – Depression**

"_I start to think there really is no cure for depression, that happiness is an ongoing battle, and I wonder if it isn't one I'll have to fight for as long as I live. I wonder if it's worth it." - Elizabeth Wurtzel_

_X  
_

It was 0900 hours on the dot as I sat in cold plastic chair across from an officer's desk awaiting the verdict to my request. For the first time in weeks I'd dressed out in my ACU's and my hair was pulled back and pinned up in a tight bun. Even though my stomach was twisting into knots, I'd never felt more ready to get this over with. My only fault was the sleeve. It wouldn't button over my cast.

It was almost a repeat of my day with Dr. Wyatt as we met to talk about my request to return to the Iraq despite my one of my surgical hands being out of commission. The officer asked me five or six different times how I managed to survive a tour at the front line only to come home and injury myself. Again, I lied to them.

Still, he managed to remain diplomatic in his answers whenever I asked if I return to my unit. I was dismissed with a follow-up for the next week. Of course that meant my prognosis did not look good.

I blew out of the offices and into the parking lot where Teddy was waiting for me. I was too nervous to drive myself and I knew asking Callie would destroy any truce we'd gained the other night.

"So… what did he say?" Teddy asked with that quiet sense of anticipation lurking in her voice.

"What do you think he said?" I huffed back.

She hesitated before answering, "…That you can go back?"

"NO! I can't fucking go back! Do you see my hand? It's still super broken. He even asked how I hurt it. And you know what I told him? I was accidentally pushed into a wall. A wall!"

"Well, the wall part was sort of true."

"I am the worst liar in the world, Theodora! He just had to look at me to know I wasn't telling the whole truth!"

Frustrated, I turned to the car and tried to throw out another punch. This time, Teddy grabbed me before I could connect with the metal frame.

"Whoa there cowgirl! Remember the last time you decided physical aggression was the best form of expression?"

Her arms don't loosen from mine until I can control my breathing again. It takes a few moments, but soon enough I feel the rage subside. We both get into the car.

"We seriously have to find a better outlet for venting other than destroying other people's property, you know?"

Her humor is more honest than I'd like, but Teddy has proven to be a good friend to me in past few weeks. From rides to base to watching after my girls while I was gone, I couldn't ask for anymore. Unfortunately, my emotions were running raw so instead of agreeing with her, I laughed. But the laughter soon turns to cries. Teddy reached across the central console and took my hand.

"I belong… with Calliope … and now … I don't belong in the army," I sobbed. "I just don't know anymore."

X

We made a pit stop at Seattle Grace on the way back so Teddy could sign off on some charts. To avoid Callie, I stayed in the lobby, but even there I felt uncomfortable dressed up in my combat uniform. Staying in the car was looking like a better plan as I tried to ignore the prying eyes from colleagues.

"Dr. Robbins!"

I turned around to see an intern dressed in full isolation gear with her hands wrapped up.

"Please! You have to come Dr. Hunt isn't answering any of our pages! Dr. Torres is in the OR. She needs you now."

X

"I asked for Owen Hunt! Why the hell did you bring me Arizona?" Callie yells at the intern as she scurried back into the OR.

"Y-Y-You said you needed the trauma surgeon. I couldn't find Dr. Hunt anywhere. I thought she could help since she just came back from Iraq!" stammers the frightened intern.

"She's in Peds!" my irritated wife screams.

"Calliope! What happened?" I ask through the washroom's intercom system.

Through the window, Callie looks up at me. Her brow furrows at the site of my uniform. Before her on the operating table is an extremely young girl. Callie and her team have her thigh exposed. I know her frustration, but I also know the intern's heart was in the right place. If anyone in the hospital besides Owen was more practiced in trauma, it was me.

"What are we looking at?" I ask.

"Go help her!" Callie shouts at another observing intern.

Another student hops to and joins me out in washroom. Without a moment to spare, I shed my jacket and intern hands me an extra scrub top.

"Open femur fracture near the epiphyseal plate. Bone nicked the artery. She nearly bled out in the ambulance ride over. I need you in here. She's coded once on us already."

I scrub my good hand raw at the sink, not caring if my cast gets wet then onto my casted hand. It'll have to be replaced after this, but I think I can convince an orthopedic surgeon to help me out. Lifting my feet one at a time, the intern pulls off my boots and replaces them with foot covers. It's not the first time a surgeon has performed in socks and personal protective equipment and I probably won't be the last.

"What was the mechanism of injury?" I continue, drying my hands.

"Abuse… or at least that's what the police reported."

My blood boils at the thought of any parent physically hurting their child. The girl on the table couldn't have been more than five.

The intern finally places a scrub cab over my head and ties it tight followed by a mask. Nothing could stop me as I bolted into the surgical room. Two nurses immediately have me wrapped in an isolation gown. A small latex glove is placed over my good hand, while a large one is pulled tight over my casted hand.

My eyes shoot to the girl's swollen abdomen filled with internal bleeding. Her injuries clearly have progressed thanks to what appears to be years of abuse. Scars and bruises are littered through out her tiny body making my stomach to turn.

"Please Arizona!"

"_Please Arizona…." Callie whines as I dragged her up the hundredth hill at the park next to our hospital. "My back is killing me! Are you we there yet?"_

_Turning back, I grab her hand. "Just a little farther," I promise and pull her up the top of hill to a well-known bench we use to frequent in the early days of our relationship. _

_Dramatically, she collapses on the bench swings her feet over my lap just as I sat down. Her hands begin to rub her baby bump. At almost twenty-six weeks, the little tyke is already exhausting Calliope. The baby finally started moved out of the fluttering stage and onto been kicking like there's a soccer match going on inside Callie's womb. _

"_You okay?" I asked._

"_Yeah, kiddo's just a little excited today," she grimaces._

"_Maybe she'll be a soccer player."_

"_Or maybe __**he'll **__wise up and go to med school like his mommies."_

_Another slip on my part. Calliope and I decided we'd like to be surprised about the sex of the baby. Only probably is I can read an ultrasound monitor. I'm pretty Callie can do the same, but chooses not to. Either way, Thalia Sophia Robbins – Torres is a fighter with her constantly kicking, wiggling, and punching the insides of Callie like a meat tenderizer. _

_Hesitantly, I place my hand on her stomach hoping to feel anything, but all is quiet. I try not to look disappointed for the umpteenth time, but it's hard not to when the baby has been moving around for the past two weeks and I seem to be the only one who hasn't gotten to experience it.  
_

"_Hey…" Callie begins, lifting my chin up to meet her eyes. "You'll get a chance. We've got fourteen more weeks of this to go."_

"_I know…" _

"_Okay, so why the hell are we out here?" she asks, trying to get my spirits up._

"_Do you remember the last time we were up here?"_

"_Yeah, the merger."_

"… And I took you up here to get away from it all and you still managed to bring it up."

"_Only because I was scared the Chief wasn't going to make me an attending and I'd be on a plane to Cleveland in the morning for an interview or something terrible," Callie defended._

_I slipped off her sandals and began to give her swollen feet a gentle foot rub._

"_And what happened?"_

_Callie's frownie face gets me every time as I push a little deeper between the metatarsal in her feet to get to those sore muscles._

"_He gave me the job."_

"Exactly! So now we're going to sit here and enjoy that lunch hour you messed up for us with sandwiches and salad."

"You brought food?"

_Ravenous wolves couldn't have stop Calliope as I pointed to the bag I'd been carrying that now lay almost forgotten by the bench. Instead of reaching for a sandwich or salad, she went straight for the strawberries._

"_Hey! That's supposed to be for dessert." I tried, but to no avail. _

"_Baby wants strawberries," she shrugged._

"_Oh really? Our tiny human knows the super delicious taste of strawberries?"_

_She flashes me a cheesy grin little seeds stuck in her teeth. Whether it was the lack of sleep due to waiting on Callie hand and foot throughout the night or the exhaustion from extra hours I'd been pulling with the veterans, I started laughing._

"_What?" Callie asked. She looks at her clothes to see if she spilled.  
_

_"What!" she demanded again, but didn't stop until my sides hurt and Callie looked close to tears._

"_Come here!" I said scooting towards her, so that her growing stomach touched mine. "You have seeds in your teeth."_

Embarrassed, she quickly ran her tongue over her teeth and cleaning them off with little success. My lips soon found hers and I kissed away any lingering mortification.

"_All better?" she smiled._

"_Just about," I replied and reached for a strawberry._

_A quick couple of messy bites and my teeth were covered as well. A seedy smile just like hers made Callie light up like billboard. I felt a small flutter on my stomach. Not inside, but on the outside._

"…_Calliope?" _

"_I think someone wanted to finally say hello."_

Every nurse, resident, doctor, and staff looked to me. It was it was a well-known fact in the hospital that I had been banned from the operating room. This was bordering on suspension or possibly being fired.

"Arizona, I'm not pressuring you into this," Callie frantically says as she and three other doctors struggle. "But Owen isn't walking through those doors in next ten seconds. I understand if you don't want to—"

"Scalpel, ten blade," I demand with an authority I thought I'd checked back in Iraq.

The nurse places it in my casted hand. Thankfully, I'm able to grip it just like I would without the cast. Though the pain was excruciating as barely healed bones move for the first time in weeks, I placed the scalpel to the child's stomach and cut.

The little girl lived to see another day and hopefully to never see her abusive family again. As extensive as the bleed was, I was able to control it. Callie set the bone in her femur and we were out of there within the hour.

We scrubbed out feeling saintly, like a fresh start for the both of us just a stone's throw away. Only waiting for me outside the OR was the Chief and one very long walk to his office. Calliope held my hand every step of the way until the door was closed in her face and it was just Richard Webber and I plus a termination of employment file on his desk.

X

The drive home was silent except for the soft snores coming from Thalia, wrapping comfortably in her car seat. Calliope had reached across the center consol two now to hold my hand as I wallowed in the passenger seat. But I pulled away, trying to let her see the tears that rolled down my face.

The last good thing I had in my life, Seattle Grace, was now just another part that didn't want me. News had traveled fast through the hospital of my heroics, but it was careless. If anything had gone wrong, I would have lost my license and that child would have lost her life.

She pulled into the drive way and shut off the car. Neither of us made a move to leave. I didn't want to go into the house. I wanted her to fight past my cationic state and hold me. I wanted to cry in her arms, not in the seat of this car.

My entire career was gone within one day. With a broken family, it was all I had left in the world. And one stupid, but life saving has taken away the emergency room and any hope I had at seeing an operating room again. The army was my only hope now and even then, I knew it would be a long shot at being deployed again.

The car door opens and then the back door. Callie unbuckles our sleepy girl and rests her against her shoulder. She feels guilty, knowing that we could have very easily made a resident or an intern perform the surgery necessary to save that little girl's life. But inexperienced hands on such an inexperience life would have only ended in tragedy.

"Thank you," is all that's said as the car door closes and the wife that's given up on me and the child that loathes me, enter our home.

X

Dreams are just about the only place of safety I have left. Deep within my psyche consists a sleepy wonderland where I can find my Calliope, the girl I remembered just before the baby was born. A place where our child didn't think of me as a threat and Calliope wasn't so upset with me that distance was the only cure.

Some thing pokes into my arm, but I refuse to let it take me away from the girl I remember, the woman I fell in love with. She's not yelling at me or forcing me to hold her daughter. No, Thalia is safely inside her again. After that trip to the park, she would to kick against my hand every time I spoke to her. I never thought I'd be jealous that she'd be the one to carry our child. It's one of the last few times I remember beginning truly happy around them.

Again, something pokes me in the arm.

"Callie, not now," I mutter out to the real world.

It pokes me again bring reality back down and me back up.

"Stop it!"

And to top it off, the blanket is pulled away.

"Goddamnit Cal! Can't you just let me sleep for five fucking minutes!" I yelled, but as I opened my eyes, Calliope wasn't there in bed next to me.

It's Thalia with a few stray tears rolling down her face. She quickly scurries underneath the bed.

"Thalia! Oh my god! I didn't mean – I'm so sorry!"

I reach for her, but she just slides back even further out of my touch.

"Please Lia! Just come out for a second. I'm not angry at you."

But the little girl doesn't budge.

I look up for any sign of Callie anywhere, but her discarded pajamas on the chair. Both her cell phone and her pager are gone from the night stand. Next to them is a note.

_Arizona – Got paged 911. Not sure when I'll be back. If I don't answer, I'm probably still in surgery. If Thalia wakes up, give her breakfast and get her dressed for the day. You'll be fine, but if you have any problems, Mark and Lexie are next door. – Callie_

Quickly, I look outside of the window to Mark and Lexie's house. Both cars are gone; so much for any help from the man whore and Little Grey. I turn on my phone and call Callie. It heads straight to voicemail.

"It's me. Please come home the second you get this. God… I fucked up. She woke me up and I thought it was you and I was angry. Now she's hiding because she thinks I'm some big scary monster and she won't come out from under the bed. Callie, come home. I can't do this."

A glance down and I see her peering out from her hiding place. She's studying me, probably wondering the same thing I've been thinking. Why on Earth would Calliope leave us alone together?

I hang up the phone and look down at her. "Hey Lia, are you hungry?"

Immediately, she retreats back under the bed and further out of my heart. I'm screwed, so I do the only thing I can think of that Callie will have to answer, her pager.

Thirty minutes have passed and still no answer from my scalpel superstar or her daughter for that matter. I know she's got to be hungry. It's almost nine in the morning and what child isn't carving some sort of sugary cereal in the morning well before dawn?

Resorting to bribes, I ended up pouring her a small bowl, no milk because apparently neither of us can handle it without complete supervision still. I left it out just far enough so that if she reached for it, I could grab it. Sure, baiting-and-capture the child who has issues with you already isn't probably the best idea I've had, but I can't leave her under the bed all day.

Still, another thirty minutes past and nothing became of the cereal. I looked under a few times to find two very pale blue eyes staring right back at me, observing me. She'll make a wonderful surgeon one day if she's able to stay put for that long. For an almost two year old that's probably the equivalent of six or more hours for us. I have to say, I am impressed by it.

As quickly as I saw them, they disappear back into the shadows of the bed. Light brown Latina curls of hair sweeping behind them. We chose a donor as close as possible to me. Sometimes I think we chose to well. Her eyes reminded me of my brothers. Mine were a piercing blue, but David's gray-blue. Not sure how that happened, but when they first started to settle in their color, I couldn't have been more happy. It was like one last final gift from my brother.

"Thalia, look, I'm sorry I scared you. I didn't mean too."

But it seems all I do is scare you since I came back.

"And I'm sorry I'm the one you're stuck with today, but she's coming back okay?" And then I'm leaving. I'll get my old apartment back, see about that second tour, maybe call my lawyer and talk custody papers. Who am I kidding! God knows Thalia not really mine. Not legally anyways. We could never get those papers signed because of the military.

"Look, she wouldn't leave you with me if she didn't think I could take care of you. Gosh, I took super great care of you for six straight months before basic. You use to wake me up then, too. Your mom has a knack for sleeping through anything softer than a jet engine. Heh, this one time Calliope had just come off a thirty-six hour shift and she was so tired that I had to hold you both up while she breast fed you."

I laugh to myself remembering that night. Lia must have been around three months at that point and Callie kept falling asleep against the pillows while the baby kept slipping further and further down from her chest, erupting into tears when she couldn't drink from her mother. Finally, I just sat behind her and held Lia up to drink. Important family bonding moments, as Calliope would call them in the morning.

A tiny hand crept out from underneath the bed and grabbed a few cheerios from the bowl. I looked down at the small Latina with those gray-blue eyes staring back at me.

"Hi," was all I could whisper to her.

X

Sweet sounds of soft snoring came up from underneath the bed. I took refuge with a blanket and pillow on the other side of the room away from the door. She needed an exit, not this sense of entrapment that I felt. All I could do was sit and wait for Callie to come home.

"You know what the funny thing is? I'm the pediatric surgeon. I'm the awesome one who's good with kids and I can't even get you to come out of there."

Crouching down a little further onto the floor, I look at her as she sleeps in her wonderland. The bowl of cheerios is completely gone now and I bet she's probably going to be hungry for lunch too.

"I use to tell the children that their IV bag was filled with fairy dust. Not sure who believed it more, them or me, but it calmed all those tiny humans down long enough to get a line in. I use to make them do math equations with their medication dosage. I would memorize their stuff animals' name and examine them along side the patient, just because it would get some radiation filled child to laugh. I was… I was so awesome."

My eyes wandered across the light brown locks of hair nestled around her head. Those curls shook as Lia shivered in her sleepy. Go figure! Lying on the wooden floor underneath the bed would be a little drafty. In a craft I could probably pull her out from underneath the bed, but I could only imagine the boundary lines I would be crossing if she woke up.

"Okay, you're cold and the humane thing to do when a child is cold is to give them a blanket. So if this wakes you up, I'm sorry."

Slowly, I inch towards her, careful not to let any let the floor board squeak and drape the blanket over her. Feeling a bit more daring, I lift her head and place the pillow under her.

"I never wanted kids only because I was afraid you'd get sick with something I couldn't cure. But you came out perfect. Easy pregnancy, easier delivery, Hell! You slept through the night once during the second month. It was all perfect."

My hand lingers a bit as I brush back those gorgeous curls and see her face, Calliope's face. She stirs ever so slightly, so I choose not to push my luck and retreat back to safety. The shivering soon stops.

"Absolutely perfect."

She sighs in her sleep and settles down.

Sleep finally over takes me.

X

It's dark outside, I'm not sure how long I've been out for, but it's probably not ideal to sleep the day away considering the post-traumatic stress syndrome diagnosis that Dr. Wyatt hinted at to me in our last session. Though I think I'm able to name this one by myself.

Depression.

Dejected but a heroine, I came back to a world that had moved on without me. We couldn't stop Thalia from growing. I couldn't stop Callie from seeking comfort in surgeries and doctors I cared less for just to avoid my gloomy self. I couldn't help the lack of patience I gave my pediatric ward after experience so much military precision. All I could do was move forward again.

I try to move when I feel a weight on my good arm. It's Thalia. She's wrapped herself in the blankets and snuggled up next to me. She must of sensed I'm awake as she rolls over and looks at me with those eyes that remind me so much of my brother's.

"Momma?"

A few nods are all I can manage as tear over take me. Her voice is just as sweet as I imagined from listening to the short videos that Callie sent. The eighteen month old looked confused by my silent sobbing nods as she tried again, reaching for my tears and trying to wipe them away.

"Mom – ma?" She tries again, slower, hoping she got it right.

"It's okay Lia. We're okay."

She turns over and pulls the empty cereal bowl to us. My stomach growl in agreement.

"Guess we can't go much longer on a couple things of cereal, can we? Wouldn't want your mama to think I'd let you starve."

Lia turns and pokes her small chubby finger onto my chest and for a third and final time today, she calls me it.

"My momma."

Deep down I knew from day one she hadn't forgotten me. My arms wrap around her in a lasting embrace. "Once upon a time, baby. Once a time I was."

We stayed up well past her bedtime since we'd slept most of the day away to begin with. I cooked some chicken nuggets and warmed up some peas to eat. Food became just another toy as I toss pieces of it in the air and caught them in my mouth, with Thalia squealing and clapping in delight each time. She even tried as I tossed peas at her. After a few tries, she was able to catch them in her mouth, that or my aim got better.

Angling the headlights of my car into the backyard, we bundled up to fight the brisk Seattle evening weather and played on the tiny play set Carlos and Marie had bought for their only granddaughter. We play the most lopsided game of tag as Lia boldly ran as fast as she little legs could carry her. I followed always keeping her just out of reach until I was sure she could not run another inch. Then I scooped her up as she giggled and puffed in my well-toned arms.

By midnight, we were finally worn out. I put on the Princess and the Frog as we shared some ice cream on the couch. Barely on her third "airplane coming in for a landing!" bite of ice cream, the little one had curled back into my side and began to dose off. I didn't have the heart to move her, at least not yet. This would be the first and last time Thalia and I would probably ever experience a day like this.

Car lights pulled in front of Mark and Lexie's house. If they were home, it only meant Calliope wasn't that far behind them. Again, I scooped my darling child up and gently carried her upstairs to her room. The walls were a pale pink with the occasional star hand painted a long by Lia's very hormonal mama. She said that I always seemed to make the world sparkle and she wanted Lia's world to do just the same.

As I lied her down in her small tot bed and pulled the covers up, her tiny hand shot out. I looked to her fearing the stolen day we had just had together would come to a halt, but I wasn't. Her eyes were narrowed and focus as if she was studying my face. Even for at such a young age and with such a limited understanding of emotional and vocabulary, I could read what she was trying to say to me.

"It's just a dream, Lia. Go back to sleep."

Heavily eyelids do as they're told and flutter closed again, satisfied with what I've said.


End file.
